


We All Want To Survive...

by kestra_troi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Intersex, M/M, Master/Slave, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this Fantasy World-AU, Stiles is a slave from a Human Tribe called the Leptosi, known for having Intersex individuals: men who can conceive and women who can impregnate. Stiles is one such individual and he gets bought by a very rich, very powerful, pain-loving Wolf who intends on breeding day and night. And making each time hurt more than the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Mans Slave Is Another Mans Consort

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter 1, there will be a Chapter 2. But if this turns into another fully fledged series I might have to cut off my hands...I mean for reals. I cant keep following my muse all over Gods green earth...or fandom. Ok...

Stiles jerked awake gasping and sweating from one of his nightmares. He had had them since his mother had been murdered in front of their entire village as a warning. The Crown would not tolerate disobedience not in one village not in any village, so they had killed an unarmed, completely innocent pregnant woman for the entire village to see. If they were willing to kill a woman and her unborn child they would be willing to kill anyone. The intimidation worked. From then on no one dared say anything even remotely disparaging of the Crown nor did they bemoan the Tribes lowly station in the social order. _We learned our lesson alright…_ Stiles had thought at the time… _if the Crown was willing to kill a breeding woman, a crime under the law, they would not hesitate to do what they wanted to the rest of us…_ That was how Stiles was now being sold as a slave. The Crown had instituted slave raidings, any Human a slave merchant could capture that wasn’t already owned could be put on the market.   

Stiles sat up as much as he could against the bars of his cage trying the breath deeply to force the dreams away, but he felt too constrained to breath well. The cage had been meant for someone shorter then him and smaller. He had to keep his legs scrunched up against his body and he couldn’t even sit upright due to the limited size of his prison.

He had always been claustrophobic and merinthophobic (afraid of being tied up). This cage was his hell and torment in reality and his nightmares were his hell and torment in fantasy. There was no release or relief anywhere, ever. He had been trapped in this cage on route to the next town for four days. They were due to arrive in just under another days travel. They would come in plenty of time to make the next slave auction, where Stiles would again be put on sale.

This would be his fourth auction, if nobody bought him now then he would be sold to the Crown and forced to work in the mines or the fields. Both jobs were guaranteed death sentences. Stiles was conflicted. As much as he didn’t want to be a slave to some stranger, he also didn’t want to die, he couldn’t. He refused to. He berated himself for his unattractive looks and gangly body. His half-brothers Scott and Jackson had both sold quickly in earlier auctions. Jackson was sold to a brothel in the City of the Angels. Scott was sold to a wealthy family in the City by the Bay to work as a groundskeeper. Their beauty and strength had sold them for high prices, while Stiles languished.

No matter what Stiles had to somehow come across as appealing tomorrow. His life depended on it. If he could just be sold to a liberal merchant or even a liberal farmer, he could perhaps after years of faithful service be released. _If they are liberal in mind and progressive in action._ Stiles prayed to the Gods of Tomorrows to please bring him a kindly master, a liberal master, and deliver him from the fields and mines. He prayed that his half-brothers would do well and survive, even if their lives were hard and painful.

He prayed that his half-sister Lydia and his mothers were still alive and doing well in the village. Lydia had been pregnant which was the only reason she too had not been taken, and now that all three of her brothers were gone, she would rule the village as Protector. Stiles prayed to the Gods that they would guide her and help her to lead well.

He prayed for the other children that had been taken from other villages, the ones whose names he had never learned, but the ones whose faces he could see as clearly now as he had the moment he first saw them. He prayed that they too would lead good lives free from pain.

Stiles clutched his sides as his body cramped, the first sign of his impending moon-bleed. He and his sister Lydia had been on the same cycle before she got pregnant, and now only a few months later their bond was broken, their entire family was broken. Their father killed in cold blood, their mothers beaten and raped, the brothers captured and sold into slavery. If Lydia hadn’t been pregnant she would’ve been sold too, but the law was clear: a pregnant human was to be left untouched, in order to continue the stock.

Now Stiles wished he had taken Daniel up on his offer to wed when they had both achieved their sixteenth year. If he had he might now also be with child and thus left to lead and repair his village and his family. But he had been stubborn, he had wanted more out of life than just breeding. Just because he was an Intersex didn’t mean he wanted to spend his life barefoot and pregnant even for a man as goodly and decent as Daniel had been.

In this moment, however, Stiles prayed he could be so fortunate. He begged the Gods to please let him be sold off to a breeding house or to a brothel or even to a solitary master who needed a fertile womb. At this point Stiles was willing to do whatever it took to stay alive.

He rubbed his stomach the way his mothers had taught him to relax the muscles to relieve his cramps and continued trying to breathe deeply. Tomorrow he would surely be bleeding. No doubt he would stand on the auction block blood dripping down his thighs and legs, pooling at his feet. He wanted to beg his body and the Gods to not let him bleed while being sold as only some of the people in the Provinces outside of his Tribe condoned Intersex breeding. Stiles knew this and prayed hard that he would not be sold to one who punished him for being what he was. He spent the entire rest of the journey to the City on the Hill praying and willing his body to not bleed. But his cycles had always been regular, even more so than Lydia's and he knew that no amount of praying could change that.

***

Derek had lived his entire life in the City on the Hill and had always enjoyed Auction Day. Every merchant in the area would gather their wares and put them on display. It was as close to a festival as the City had outside the Holy Days, and that meant that Derek could buy anything he wanted.

His family had been rich and powerful forever. Their family history extended as far back as the history of the Crown, few others could boast that. And being the only son of one of the most powerful families in the Western Province meant that Derek was treated with respect and awe everywhere he went. It also meant every trader in the City would be begging for his attention and his patronage.

But on this day of days Derek had a very specific purpose in mind for his money: he was going to buy a consort. He had already been married and mated with his cousin Cora the year before and she had already born their first child: a son, Mattheu. Now Derek was free to buy a consort to keep as a sex slave, one free to keep and mate as much as he wanted and as roughly as he wanted.

His marriage to his cousin had been arranged since her birth. She was a petite thing, pretty too, with the family wit and inner strength. But Derek's proclivities leaned in another direction. He wanted a boy he could dominate and be rougher with, rougher than he dared be with his wife. He had perversions already in mind for his consort whoever he turned out to be, ones Derek couldn’t  take even to a brothel. He needed privacy and complete control over his partner. Which was another issue he had with his wife: she refused to be under his will.

While this was not unheard of among his people, after all the Wolf Clans had always allowed women rule and fight beside their men, but Derek wasn’t one for tradition. He wanted power and control over everything and everyone who he felt entitled to. He thought this would include his wife, but she had made herself clear that she would follow in the traditions of their people and live by his side, and not behind him, _like a Human slave.._. He couldn’t fault her for that, so they agreed he should buy himself a slave for his possessive, homosexual, and depraved needs.

So at midday Derek arrived at the slave auction block and prepared himself to select another mate. The first couple of slaves were too old, already in their twentieth years. The next few slaves were of age, but were women and Derek had no desire for them. Then came one of the right age and sex: one called Stiles. An odd name for sure, but one Derek was sure he could alter to suit his needs. As the bidding started the wind shifted and Derek caught the scent of blood coming off the slave Stiles. Derek took whiffs of the scent and realized it was blood, moon-blood to be specific. A smell he was all too familiar with.

His family had based their fortunes on breeding farms for Humans. Derek had always planned to open up a Wolf breeding farm, to help re-supply the Province and Kingdom with Wolf soldiers. After all, war was always a possibility in these days and the last war had been devastating for the Wolf Clans in terms of loss of life. _Having a breeding farm could take care of that_. 

Derek bid on the boy, who looked astonished that someone was bidding and at such a price: five gold pieces. Jackson had gone for three gold pieces and Scott for two gold pieces and twelve bars of silver. Five gold pieces was a lot of money, more than anyone including Stiles thought he was worth, so without a second's delay the slave trader banged his gavel and sold Stiles to Derek Hale, Governor of the Western Province.

When Derek retrieved the boy after paying, the boy looked _and smelled…_ relieved as he gazed at the ground beneath him. Protocol demanded he never look directly into his master's eyes, it would be a challenge to their power, so Stiles looked solely at his feet as Derek examined him.

"Have you been bred before?" Derek asked giving Stiles' ass a squeeze and fingering his slightly bloody hole.

"No sir, Master Derek."

"Have you been breached before?" Stiles blushed and again answered in the negative. 

"Good…" Derek proclaimed, happy with his selection. "Then it will hurt you all the more to be breached by my cock and my knot." Derek leaned in took Stiles' face in one of his hands, bringing their faces close together. "I am going to hurt you, little one. A lot. Over and over. I'm going to make you bleed, and bruise, and scream…and I am going to breed you, continuously. From now on your life will be dedicated to my pleasure and to my desires. Get on your knees!" Derek commanded as he pushed Stiles' face away from him. Stiles complied crying as he did so knowing what was coming.

"That’s right, cry for me little one…scream for me as you receive my mark…your master's mark…"

And Stiles did scream as the branding iron was pressed against his back between his shoulders, a triskelion, the Hale Tribe mark, along with Derek's own personal mark were burned into his flesh forever. Stiles crumbled to the ground fainting from the overwhelming pain.

**

When Stiles awoke he was naked, alone and sweating in a bed. _Was it all a dream?_ But he instantly knew that it hadn’t been: he could feel his master's mark on his back. The pain was dull, but it also itched which made it all the worse. He wished there was a mirror in the small yet well-kept room but from what he could tell there wasn’t. There was a bookcase, two doors, a chair, a bedside table, and a bureau, but no mirror.

 _How long have I been asleep?_ He wondered, automatically stretching his body unthinkingly, pain shot up his spine and made his mark throb all the more. _Its like another heartbeat…_ Stiles stilled, turned on his side to face the wall, and simply laid down on the bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

He had been laying still off in his own mind for ten or fifteen minutes when he heard a voice outside the door and then he heard someone enter the room. He recognized the voice as his new master's and bit his lip to keep from talking. _A slave never initiates conversation with their betters..._

Other childhood memories filtered into his thoughts as his master slowly walked towards the bed. He remembered attending school and balking at learning the proper protocol for being a slave. _Why bother…_ he had thought… _I_ ' _m a child of the Protector… no ones going to take me…_ He realized now the wisdom of his Tribal elders who had mandated that all children learn the ways of all the Clans and Tribes in case of capture and enslavement.

 _The more you know, the more you will survive…_ his mother had said when he complained about the slavery lessons… _and survival is what we all want…_

His master was now standing beside the bed, his hands feather-light were roaming up Stiles' body along his ribs before resting near his mark. "You are healing very well Genim. Very well. I'm pleased."

Stiles knew enough Lycannic to know that Genim was not a typical slave-name. If he remembered rightly –geni meant something like "spark" or "light" or "lightening", unusual name for a slave. From what Stiles had learned from his elders slave-names were typically meant to demean a slave, remind them of their place. He could live with being called Genim.

"Thank you Master."

"You had me worried for a moment Genim. Four whole days of unconsciousness I'm going to have to punish you for that Genim."

"Yes, Master." Stiles said as he kept himself from flinching as his new master lightly touched his still aching mark.

"My Tribal mark looks so pretty on you Genim…so very pretty alongside my own mark…" Stiles couldn’t help himself from blushing, unaccustomed as he was to compliments. Nothing about Stiles was ever described as pretty.

"Thank you, Master." Stiles responded sincerely.

"Are you thanking me for my compliment or my mark, Genim?"

"Both sir…" and he quickly added, "but mostly for your mark." Derek made a rumbling sound in the back of his throat and his touch became more forceful. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from tensing and whimpering softly at the touch. "So…you like my mark do you? You like being mine."

The last bit hadn’t been a question, but Stiles answered anyway. "Yes, sir. Thank you for marking me, sir." Though in his mind he went further: _thank you for saving me…saving me from the fields and mines…I owe you my life…I will serve you well…thank you for buying me…claiming me…_ Stiles blushed at this last thought as he recalled the very specific meaning Wolves attached to the idea of claiming. In that sense he hadn’t been claimed at all, _not yet anyway…_

"You look pretty when you blush Genim. Tell me what made you blush." Stiles hesitated a moment, opened his mouth and stuttered, "I…I…Ah-" He blushed even darker red embarrassed by the idea of his thoughts and body being laid out naked for his master. Derek reiterated softly, yet more forcefully "Tell me Genim. There is no shame in honesty."

Stiles gulped and then admitted to his master what he had been thinking about that made him blush so deeply. "Claiming… Master…I remembered that…that it means something different to…for Wolves…and I thought of my debt to you…for marking me…and--"

"And your mind went immediately to claiming." Derek finished his consort's sentence for him and Stiles blushed anew. While Stiles had always thought of sex, his Tribe was more conservative in their ways. Unlike some other Human Tribes, the Leptosi Tribe Stiles hailed from practiced abstinence until the age of adulthood, sixteen. Stiles readily accepted the notion once he realized that in some other Tribes the moment puberty hit you were expected to mate and breed. He was relieved his Tribe was different and once he reached sixteen he had even decided to wait longer before taking a spouse.

Stiles had figured he would wait a couple years maybe dabble in un-bonded sex before taking a spouse for life. He always knew that Daniel would be there, waiting for him until he was ready to wed. _He is such a patient man…I suppose now he_ ' _ll wed someone else…he_ ' _ll give his seed to someone else to carry… someone not stupid like me…someone smart enough to not look a gift diamond askance or askew…_ The thoughts of someone else with Daniel made Stiles want to sob. That someone else would get to lead the life he now realized he had wanted. The life he always figured was ahead for him: _wedding Daniel, sharing our lives together, bearing his children..._

Stiles bit back his tears and sobs and answered his waiting master with a wavering voice, "Yes Master. I'm sorry Master."

Derek petted his consort, "Shhhhh, Genim…I'm not upset with you. I will claim you in the tradition of my people I plan on breeding you as much as I breed my wife. And I expect you to be honest with me Genim when I ask for it. When I ask a question you answer. Understood?"

Stiles calmed under his master's ministrations, "Yes Master…" he said steadying his voice, "I understand."

"Good Genim…good. Oh yes…I am most assuredly going to claim you…claim you in the ways of my people…once you’ve fully recovered…the practice of claiming is a painful one for the sub…" Stiles nodded his understanding as Derek continued, "…for the moment I believe its time for your first punishment. Come sit between my legs and put your face to my stomach."

Derek moved away and sat in the only chair in the room, that was across from the bed almost tucked away in the corner. He took off his simple (poncho-esque) top and sat with his legs open wide, while Stiles turned to face the room. Once his master was seated Stiles hurriedly obeyed and knelt between his master's legs, pressing his face into his master's stomach.

He remembered from his schooling that Wolves are more physical and tactile than his own Tribe, and that four areas are considered sacrosanct: the wrists, the neck, the stomach and the thighs. For his master to bare his stomach and allow him to be near it was a sign of trust. _He_ ' _s trusting me to be good…to not try and hurt him…though he is massive, he could probably kill me with a single move…I_ ' _m a child compared to him…_

Then Stiles was struck with an epiphany… _there is no escape…he will never let me go… this is going to be my life until he tires of me and sells me…or kills me or puts me to work elsewhere…he_' _s a Wolf…they_ ' _re known for their possessiveness and territoriality…he never could let me go…_

Part of Stiles wanted to cry and shake and try to run away. But another side of him realized that, that would merely make his new master angry, _make him punish me more and harder…he_ ' _s Governor of the Province…where could I go even if I did manage to escape?_ The rational side of his mind won out probably for the first time in his life: _This is my life now…its better than the fields…at least nothing awful can happen to me…other than what my master does to me…he plans on breeding me which means he won_ ' _t kill me…not unless I prove infertile…_

Stiles mind froze for a moment in terror. _What if I_ ' _m barren? What if he can_ ' _t get me with ~~child~~? Pups…they call them pups here…What if I fail? He won_ ' _t need me if I can_ ' _t be bred…_ So Stiles decided that the best course of action was to try and please his master and exceed any expectations placed on him. _If he wants me submissive, then I will be submissive…if he wants me to scream I will scream…If he wants a child off me, then I_ ' _ll give two…or three…or however many I can force out of me…_ Stiles slowly rubbed his face against his master's stomach growing bolder when Derek didn’t stop him. He even took a few exploratory licks and was rewarded with a hand carded through is hair, grabbing his scalp gently.

"I see you’ve received some training in the ways of my people."

Stiles answered making sure to keep his nose nuzzling his master's belly as his mouth responded, "Yes Master. All the children of my Tribe are taught the basic…behaviors for slaves… in all the Clans and Tribes." 

"Smart…to prepare your youth for the lives that lay before them as slaves…it's very wise of your elders. Is that what you call them? Your Elders?"

"Yes Master."

Derek paused a moment to process, then he moved on, "Put your hands on the floor beneath me and raise your ass Genim." Stiles complied silently guessing what his punishment was going to be.

"I'm going to give you…five slaps, for each of the four days you spent recuperating: twenty in total. This will hurt, Genim. Remember to breathe deeply throughout."

"Yes sir." Stiles whispered as he remembered that scent was another important facet of Wolf culture. _He wants me to get familiar with his scent…_ Stiles deduced… _otherwise we would do this in a different position…_ Stiles took one last lick and nuzzle of his master's stomach as he lowered his head and raised his ass. His face ended up in Derek's crotch and as he pushed his ass out as far as he could he made a point of breathing deeply.

Derek spoke as he began to rub his new consort's ass, "In the future I will have you count your punishments, but not today. Today I want to do the talking and I want you to listen. Understood?" Stiles nuzzled his master's crotch to express his understanding.

"Good, Genim <smack>…you are doing so well <smack>… I'm very pleased with you <smack>…I want you to know what I expect of you <double smack>…You are my consort. <smack> I'm married a year and already a father…<double smack>…as the only son of my family <smack>…I am expected to breed much and often <double smack>…you are a part of that goal now <triple smack>…" Stiles couldn’t keep himself from whimpering from his master's spankings, and he nuzzled all the harder on his master's growing erection.

Derek smacked his ass again harder, "Genim, hush!" Then Derek began to pet Stiles' ass soothingly for just a moment. "You are my slave…I expect total obedience. <smack> I am going to hurt you…<smack>…I am going to mark you up <smack>…and I am going to claim you…" Derek smacked his slave's ass two final times harder than the rest. He could feel Stiles biting down on his pant's material trying to keep quiet.

Derek decided to let that go. "Put your head and shoulders on the ground Genim, I want to see your redness up close."

Stiles obeyed and the moment his top was on the ground his ass was in the air. Derek lifted his boy's body up so that Stiles' ass was close to his face. Derek nuzzled the red ass in front of him and felt the warmth of Stiles' reddening skin. "You mark up so beautifully Genim."

Derek placed little kisses around Stiles' ass. "Thank you Master." Stiles nearly moaned out. No one had ever touched him like this before.

"You're welcome Genim." Derek muttered as he placed one last kiss directly on Stiles' pucker. Stiles couldn’t hold back his groan at the feel of his master's tongue teasing his hole. Stiles shuddered as the tongue entered him briefly before Derek pulled away.

"That’s enough for today Genim." Derek said giving Stiles' ass a playful smack as he lowered Stiles' body to the ground. "Today you are not to leave this room, Genim. In fact…" Derek took a moment to think, "in fact until I say otherwise you are to remain in this room. For no reason are you to leave it. Am I clear?"

"Yes Master." Stiles whimpered into the ground, ashamed that his only thoughts were of his master touching him, tonguing him again. 

"For now you are to rest. Tomorrow I will return and I will give your body a thorough exploration. Following that I will begin instructing you on how to serve me and my needs. The chamber pot is through this door…" Derek pointed at the smaller one next to the bookcase. "I will have Isaac bring up your meals. I have arranged for him to be your body servant. He will help you dress, wash, and prepare yourself for me. He's the son of our former stable-master, his whole life he has been a slave…Sit on your knees Genim and look me in the eyes…"

Stiles didn’t hesitate to sit up on his knees, but the looking directly into his master's eyes did give him pause. Derek sensed this, "Its alright Genim. I give you my permission this once."

Stiles took no more commanding and looked for the first time into his new master's eyes. He was struck by their color: a sharp hazel-green. While he looked on agog they shifted color from hazel-green to a blue so vivid Stiles had never seen the like.

"You are my slave and he is my slave. How you two interact is of no consequence to me. He will serve you only as I command it you are not his master. He knows his place and everything you say and do he will tell me. He will do his duty to obey me, but don’t expect more than that. He is not nearly as verbose as I am…his father saw to that…"

Stiles curiosity was piqued but he bit his lip to hold in his questions, but Derek noticed and answered the unasked question. "His father pierced his tongue. He's sensitive about it and since he does his work well I have seen no reason to torment him with it. I suggest you do the same…Now, look away Genim."

Stiles averted his eyes as Derek took a few steps back near him. His master took ahold of Stiles' face, turned it, and left a love-bite on Stiles' neck. Stiles gasped and his body tingled with goosebumps. Derek whispered in his slave's ear, "In less than one month's time Genim I am going to claim you." Derek licked at the reddening mark he just made making Stiles tremble and his heart race, before he continued, "I am going to claim you when you are at your most fertile and your most sensitive."

Derek then released Stiles and left the room closing the door behind him as his words slowly sunk into Stiles' addled mind. He shuddered in expectation… _he truly is a sadist…he wants our first time to hurt and serve a purpose…how am I going to survive this man…?_ Stiles' mind might have been questioning but his body had the answer. If Stiles had any self-awareness at all, or if he hadn’t been so distracted by the handsomeness of his new master, he would’ve realized that his cock was erect and throbbing at his speculations of pain. _His claiming me is going to hurt…_


	2. Claiming What Was Sown, Claiming What You Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter spans the claiming ceremony and the delivery of Stiles' pups.

Stiles claiming ceremony took place starting in the afternoon. And Stiles was right it did hurt, a lot, but by the time the claiming took place Stiles had already adapted to the pain. _Derek isn’t a monster…he didn’t rape me…but he did get me used to his style of pain…_ Derek wasn’t evil, but he did like to hurt Stiles: first it started with the spankings, they happened almost daily in the afternoon following Derek’s stint as the regional judge. After Stiles got accustomed to the spankings Derek moved on to scratching, sniffing, and licking. Every area of skin except his genitals had been subjected to Derek’s attention. Following this came the biting. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough to bruise Stiles all over.

As the claiming ceremony got closer, Stiles body was already preparing. His flow started three days before. While Derek was giving him his daily spanking, his flow just trickled out. Derek being a Wolf noticed instantly, stopped the spanking, to the slight irritation of Stiles who often came just from that, to finger the trickle to it source and lap it up. Derek’s tongue in his most private place made Stiles toes curl and he came all over his own face and chest. Derek of course had to punish Stiles for cumming without permission and was given chores in the mansion to do instead of being allowed to wait until after the claiming to begin work.

"You are a slave after all Genim, and until you provide work for me in my bed, you will provide work for me in my house." So Stiles job was to clean the floors and windows on the second floor of his master’s house. It wasn’t too difficult a job and it was one that Derek could freely interrupt when he wanted to "train" Stiles.

The eve before the ceremony, Stiles flow increased and Derek lapped it up like he had each of the previous days. And like each of the previous days, Stiles was so sensitive he came just from Derek’s tongue. Derek had already assigned Stiles chores, so the next time he came he had to get Derek off only by sucking his cock. Not an easy feat when the man receiving is so well self-controlled he could keep from cumming for hours. Stiles’ jaw ached for hours.

The following day when again Stiles couldn’t stop himself from cumming his punishment came as chains, a blindfold, a gag and some wax. It was the one thing Derek did that Stiles hated, he simply could not enjoy having hot wax being dripped on his body. Derek knew this and used it to reinforce Stiles’ good behavior: "I see how you don’t enjoy this Genim, so now if you disobey me this will be part of your punishment. Do you agree?"

With a gag on all Stiles could say was, "Ahhhhh eeeeehhhh."

Derek smiled, "Good Genim, I am greatly pleased with your obeisance. As a reward I am going to spend all of tomorrow preparing you myself for the ceremony."

Which is how Stiles came again on the eve of his claiming, with his master licking up his flow, so the final punishment was that Stiles had to wear a cock ring until Derek stated otherwise,

"Perhaps even through the ceremony if you can’t control yourself any better." Stiles readily assured his master that he would control himself that he would be good. Stiles spent the rest of that day in pain and pleasure as Derek spread him and stretched him inserting various items: a tongue, fingers, toys made of glass, into Stiles to prepare him. All the while Stiles was extremely sensitive and aching for release, but not allowed to cum. His cock was hard the entire day Derek toyed him and the rest of the evening as Stiles went about his chores with a toy inside him. "That toy best be inside you tomorrow Genim, or I will break you."

Stiles shuddered with the threat and hastily assured his master that it would be there, that he would keep it there. And he did. Once the ceremony got started Stiles walked into the appointed room naked except his master’s mark on his back and his master’s toy in his ass.

*

Stiles’ claiming hurt, it hurt immensely. Derek nipped, bit, scratched, clawed, jabbed, and stabbed into Stiles making him bleed from head to toe. All this while being fucked incessantly and not allowed to cum.

After a ten minute respite, following the first-taking, Derek started by tonguing Stiles, licking up his flow as Stiles slurped noisily on Derek’s cock attempting to cover the behemoth in as much saliva as possible since that, the cum already inside him, and his flow would be all the lubrication he got. When he was ready Derek flung Stiles on the bed and flipped him so his ass was in the air and he breached him in one go. Stiles screamed at the intrusion sure to his utter humiliation that the entire household heard him and the noises he was making. _They’ll know…know what a slut I am for him…know what a whore I am for the pain…_ Stiles had never thought of himself as being a masochist and maybe he hadn’t been one before Derek got his hands and claws on him and in him, because now he surely was. 

He tried to make it good for his master: spreading his legs wider, tilting his ass to meet his master’s thrusts, clenching around his master’s cock, moaning for him, crying for him, screaming for him.

"That’s right Genim scream for me! Let me hear how much it hurts!" Stiles screamed until his voice was hoarse and none of it was for show he truly was in pain. Derek was fucking him rough, clawing at his body even as he thrusted, smacking Stiles’ ass, nipping and biting when it suited him. But through it all Stiles remained hard and aching for release.

Then Stiles felt his master’s cock stiffen and grow even larger inside him. He sighed thinking… _now…soon it will be over…_ But he was wrong. Derek kept thrusting and as he did so his knot kept pushing it against Stiles’ hole, before Derek took the final plunge, his knot punching past Stiles’ rim. Stiles yelled and screamed as Derek bit down hard on his shoulder, so hard he broke the skin. So hard Stiles could feel the blood gushing out of him.

Meanwhile in the midst of this pain and the thrashing around it caused Derek’s knot pushed against something inside Stiles that made Stiles’ eyes to roll back in his head and an unearthly low moan spring out of him. Of course Derek took notice and in an instant decided to be merciful to his new consort and Derek removed the cock ring Stiles had been commanded to wear.

With the cock ring now removed Stiles was still aching and begged his master, "Please! Please! Master! Please!"

"Touch yourself Genim, while I’m knotted to you… Feel how good it is to be mine… For me to fill you up…"

Wasting no time, "Thank you Master! Thank you! THANK YOU! URGH! THAAAANNK YOOOOOU!! MASTER!!" Spots danced before his eyes as Stiles jerked off with Derek swiveling his hips moving his knot keeping it rubbing and pressing against Stiles’ prostate. Not five strokes in and Stiles was cumming hard on the bed. He felt light-headed and his vision swam as his body convulsed and tensed before he collapsed in a heap from exhaustion.

Derek growled and wrapped his arms around his slave and brought Stiles up so Stiles’ back was against his own chest. He could hear his slaves heartbeat still frantic, but slowly returning to normal. Derek licked his bite on Stiles’ shoulder with his tongue, he nuzzled and scrapped it with his stubbled chin, making Stiles shudder and clench around his master’s cock and knot.

"You’re mine Genim..." Derek cooed in Stiles’ ear as Stiles lolled his head on Derek’s shoulder woozy either from the intensity of his orgasm or from the blood lose from his shoulder, or both. All Stiles could see in his delirious vision was his master’s blood stained chin. His brain unable to process the sight or what his master was saying, all he did was moan as Derek continued.

"You’re mine now…No other Wolf will touch you…no other Man will ever have you, now that you’re used…you and your body are mine, Genim."

    Stiles leaned his head against his master’s jaw and nuzzled weakly more on instinct than reason. Though his mind was a pool of jizz on the bed he did manage to say three words: "Yes…yes… Master…"

"Good Genim…" Derek praised as he laid a kiss on his consort… _our first kiss…_

"You’re such a good boy Genim…such a good slave…I chose you well…" A part of Stiles’ mind tried to rebel against being called a "good slave", but he was too tired to care especially as his master wrapped his arms around Stiles’ body and placed his hands just below Stiles’ stomach.

"Feel that Genim…? My seed inside you…filling you up…" Stiles looked down even though it made him dizzy and he did see where his master’s hands rested on him a bulge. He could see the bulge and even feel it but it wasn’t real to him until he raised his own hand to the little bulge. He gasped when he touched it… _cum…his seed…inside me…his pups…his pups will be there…his pups that I will bear…that I want to bear…_

Stiles later would be shocked by his thoughts and even more so his actions. As he thought about bearing his master’s pups and looking forward to it Stiles nuzzled his master’s face and even licked some of his own blood off his master’s chin. "Thank you Master…" Stiles whispered wantonly as he shifted a leg and felt his master’s knot shift as well. "…Ahhhh…" he groaned, "Thank you Master..."

Derek looked down on his slave and chuckled. "You’re welcome Genim. You’re very welcome…" Derek took Stiles’ hair in his hand and pulled him up to plant one last kiss on his consort. Stiles opened his mouth and groaned as his master took his mouth even nipping at his lips. Then Derek swiveled his hips causing his knot to move.

"Ahhhh…" Stiles groaned again as he clenched and tensed trying to still his master’s movements even as his master’s kiss got fiercer and deeper. "Please…please…Master…"

Derek pulled away and released Stiles head, "Shhhhhh, Genim. No words…no more words." So Stiles bit his lip as Derek knotted him and bred him numerous more times before finally withdrawing and allowing Stiles a rest. It was early evening when Derek withdrew from Stiles and the room saying over his shoulder, "I am going to eat and then tend to some business. I will be back tonight Genim, to finish. I’ll send for Isaac to tend you in the mean time…" But Stiles didn’t hear any of it, as he was already unconscious.   

*

Stiles didn’t remember Isaac coming in and tending to him or Isaac leaving. He didn’t remember Derek returning or how man times Derek had fucked him again after the break. The next morning when Stiles really woke up sore, bruised, marked, and leaking he hardly remembered anything except the fragments of pain, flashes of pleasure and his master’s voice whispering to him. _You are so beautiful Genim…filled with my cum…so pretty all undone by my knot…ass so tight…meant to be taken…bruised… stretched…_ Stiles woke up to the feeling of something being inside him, a tongue. When Stiles turned he was more than a little surprised to see Isaac lapping at the mix of cum, blood, and flow pouring out of Stiles’ ass.

Isaac looked up at him and answered the anticipated question, "Mafteh Dewek saih I hah to lih-ck ooh cleeh."

Stiles blushed embarrassed that Isaac felt the need to explain orally when he knew how much speaking hurt Isaac. "Thank you Isaac…I…I’m sorry you have to do that…"

Isaac shrugged and leaned back down to finish his task, silently. Now that Stiles was awake he could focus on the fact of how numb his ass was and how he could barely feel Isaac’s tongue inside him. "Did Master say if I could bathe?"

          Isaac made a sound in his throat that Stiles had come to learn meant no. Stiles wanted to ask if that meant no Derek didn’t say or no he couldn’t bathe, but he didn’t want to embarrass Isaac anymore than he already had. _He’s too sweet to hurt…his father must have been a monster to do that to his son…_ Even as Isaac licked at him Stiles could just make out the piece of metal forever embedded in Isaac’s tongue… _that one little piece of metal that makes it so humiliating for him to speak…that one little piece of metal and his life will never be the same…he will never recover…_

Stiles moved unthinking and winced as pain shot through him from all over his body. He gasped with shock and Isaac pulled away. They looked into each other’s eyes and an understanding passed between them. _He bears his mark in his mouth…I carry mine inside me…we both suffer…we will both always suffer…_ Stiles looked away first and let out a soft cry as Isaac made to leave.

"Sowy S-ile-s…" Isaac whispered making Stiles cry harder. "I’m sorry too Isaac…" he blubbered out, "I’m sorry too…"  

***

If Stiles thought the claiming was painful, or that the pregnancy that followed was rough, then he had another thing coming when the time for delivery came around.

Derek had decided they would birth the pups in the traditional Wolf manner, as they were half Wolf. So once Stiles’ water broke he was rushed into the birthing chamber. Normally a Wolf woman giving birth would’ve been staying in the birthing chamber for a lying-in in the last moon of her pregnancy, but Derek had decided to forego that custom. He wanted control over Stiles throughout the pregnancy… _this way he won’t forget his place… maybe I have gotten too lax with the rules…seeing him pregnant, smelling him, hearing those pups’ hearts…_ Derek shook his head… _makes it too easy to think of him like he’s my mate…even Cora when she was pregnant didn’t elicit this much pride…its probably because he’s carrying four…four of my pups in his belly…I chose him and I chose well…_So Derek had refused to let Stiles have a lying-in at all, he had to continue doing his chores around the mansion regardless of how ill he felt or how slow he waddled. Stiles had been washing the windows on the second floor, when his water broke all over the floors he had just washed. Annoyed Stiles spent some time re-cleaning the floors before making his way to Isaac to tell him about it, so that he could get Derek, so they could both go to the birthing chamber.

The birthing chamber itself was large for what it was, at least in Stiles’ opinion, but then again it was designed so the lying-in, the delivery, the afterbirth, and the first month or two of the recovery could take place all in one space. It had vaulted ceilings so the screams could travel. Among the Wolves it was thought that the louder a woman screamed the stronger her pups would be. Stiles didn’t understand it, but he had no choice.

The removable portions of the roof had been removed and it helped keep the place aerated, plus it was a ceremonial tradition. Wolves in ancient times gave birth in the outdoors. If the woman or her pups and/or her mate weren’t strong enough to survive alone in the outdoors, then they weren’t needed in Wolf society. Luckily for Stiles the times had changed and now whether or not he could survive out in the wilderness had no bearing on his pups’ futures.

For the modern Wolf birthing, it was customary for the father to hold the mother (or Intersex father as was the case here.) "Wolf women give birth upright," was the mantra he heard throughout his pregnancy and Stiles had internally balked at the idea, but it wasn’t his decision.

So here he was, pushing out a pup, holding himself upright. Derek was behind him holding his knees so his legs were up and spread, so the midwife had access to everything she needed to access. Stiles’ hands were twisted in two tethers dangling from the ceiling, which Stiles held in order to hold himself upright with throughout the delivery. _Fuck upright!!_ He was thinking as he screamed through another contraction.

Sweat was pouring off Stiles like he was standing on the surface of both the Suns at once. The midwife kept yelling, "Push! Push! Boy! PUSH!!"

Stiles being Stiles screamed back, "I AM!! AHHHHHHH!" As another contraction ripped itself through Stiles’ body. When it passed Derek muttered in Stiles’ ear a warning, "Genim."

Stiles knew that tone so he immediately started apologizing as yet another contraction ripped through him. "I’m sorry! I’m SORRY! IM SORRY!!! IMMMM SOORRRRRYYY! IM SSSSOOOOORRRY!!!!! Master, Please! I’m sorry." Stiles huffed and puffed, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, like his pups had stolen everything out of him, even his breathe.

"These pups are TEARING ME APART!" Stiles tried to explain as another contraction came on him. "AHHHHHHH!!" Stiles couldn’t really focus on anything besides the pain but he thought he heard his master say, "I know…" with an almost satisfied quality in his voice.

"I have the head! One final push boy! One more! One more!" Stiles’ body didn’t really give him a say in the matter as a contraction hit and Stiles bore down, pushing out the first pup. A pup whose yelling and screaming was almost as loud as Stiles’ own.

Stiles was thrilled and exhausted. He slouched against his master’s body and rested his head a moment on Derek’s shoulder as the midwife’s assistants took the squealing pup to another corner of the room to wash and clean him. "It’s a boy Genim." Derek whispered in his ear, as Stiles turned his head to see where they had taken his pup.

"Can I see him? Can I hold him? Please?!" Stiles begged momentarily forgetting that he wasn’t anywhere near done with the delivery.

"When you’re done birthing his brothers and sisters Genim then you can hold him. Perhaps."

"Thank you….uuuuugggggghhhh….Master." Stiles stammered as a shiver passed through him. Despite everything Derek had ever done to him, this moment of giving birth made Stiles feel more exposed than ever before. Stiles heard his pup calling for him, screaming with his newborn lungs like bloody murder. _I’ll be right there ~~Thomas~~ Lucian…_Stiles thought wishing to reach his baby telepathically… _I’ll be right there…_

Stiles wanted to name his first-born boy Thomas after his own father, but he knew Derek had other plans. His first-born boy with Cora had been named after their shared grandfather Mattheu, so Derek planned to name his first-born boy with Stiles after his own father: Lucian. There was no room for discussion. _Thomas will be Lucian…maybe if I have another boy he will let me name him…?_

Stiles wanted to have a say, but knew in his heart of hearts that he was just the carrier for his master’s pups and under the law had no claim to them and no right to name them. _The only rights I have are the ones my master gives me…_ Stiles wanted to beg right then and there to get to name at least one of his pups, but then a contraction hit.

*

The second birth went much like the first: yelling, screaming, blinding pain, more yelling and screaming. But this time Stiles delivered a girl. Stiles actually got a glimpse of this one, and in that instant in his heart he named her Janescka after his own mother, knowing she would be named Varina in honor of Derek’s grandmother.  

*

The third birth was harder than the first two and took longer as well. Stiles writhed in pain as his contractions kept washing over him again and again with what felt like no rest period. But finally after pushing for what seemed like hours, the pup arrived and it too was a girl. Stiles felt woozy and lightheaded he had to rest his head on Derek’s shoulder, he didn’t have a choice.

He mumbled, "I have…I have…I have to rest…my arms…I can’t hold…hold on…" Stiles wanted to let go of the tethers that he was being forced to grip through the birth, though they did nothing for him.

"Genim," Derek warned, "if you let go of those tethers I will not let you hold those pups. Its tradition and you will follow through with it."

A surge of anger ripped through Stiles. _He wouldn’t DARE keep me from MY PUPS!_ He thought, but then his rational mind caught up with his emotional one. _He WOULD dare…according to the law those are HIS pups…not mine…He can do what he wants with them and with me…_ Stiles whimpered as his forced the anger deep inside him and a hard determination took over his features. _I have to hold those pups…I have to be a part of their lives…which means I have to hold on to these damn tethers!_ He wrapped those tethers around his hands, tangling them up to the point he doubted if they would be able to cut him out of them. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself upright as best he could, as beyond exhausted as he was, and he waited for the last birth.

*

He didn’t have to wait long and fortunately for him this last birth was easier than even the first two had been. It was another boy. Two girls and two boys, four pups in all.

"You’ve done well Genim." Derek congratulated. "You’ve given me two fine sons and two beautiful daughters. All healthy, even my wife hasn’t done as much."

Which was true, she was currently carrying their second child, another single-birth. The prediction was that it would be a girl, or so went the healers’ gossip. But Stiles didn’t care about any of that he just wanted to hold at least one of his pups.

As Stiles tried to detangle himself from the tethers he pleaded, "Can I hold one of them, master? Please?" Stiles laid his head on his master’s shoulder breathing deeply, amidst his begging. Derek stood there silently holding his extremely tired and dirtied consort. Stiles was so out of his body exhausted he wasn’t paying the least attention to his master, he was straining to see one of his pups. _Any of them…all of them…just one…please Gods let him please let me hold just one…PLEASE!!_ Stiles whimpered a little before he caught himself. _Whining won’t help my case with Derek…nothing will…_ Stiles steeled himself or at least tried to… _all that matters is his mood…and how giving he decides to be…_

Another surge of hate and anger that he couldn’t control shot through Stiles. He was hateful and angry at the fact that he couldn’t even hold his own children without the permission of their father. Hateful and angry that he couldn’t name them himself with the names of his family, of his Tribe. Hateful and angry that for the rest of their lives he would mean as little to them if not less than he meant to their father. _To them I’ll just be another slave in their father’s house…one that they will be ashamed to share a blood-link with…one they will be made to feel ashamed to come from…Gods I hate him! I hate this! I hate everything!!_

Then Derek brushed his chin against Stiles’ face and whispered in his ear, "You can hold Petro, this last boy, until the wet nurse takes him."

Stiles sighed with relief and also sadness. His breasts which had swollen and begun lactating for his pups ached at the thought that someone else would be breastfeeding them. _But focus on the small victories Stiles…_ He tried to tell himself… _at least I get to hold one…however briefly…_

One of the midwife’s assistants brought Petro and placed him in Stiles’ finally untangled arms. He looked down on the still slightly bloody, rosy pink baby in his arms and tears welled up in his eyes.

He gushed, "Hello…Petro…you are so beautiful…" Stiles began crying as his baby boy softly gurgled and whimpered. Stiles looked around him wanting to share this moment with somebody, with anybody, with everybody, but no one was paying him any mind. They were all focused on their duties and the other pups, and overtly, disrespectfully ignoring the slave who just bore them.

The only other person paying attention to them was Derek, but even he seemed removed from the scene as far as Stiles was concerned. _Though he is still holding me up…and all on his own… Wolves, and their strength…_ And despite his earlier anger and hatred towards Derek, in this moment he wanted Derek involved. He wanted to look Derek in the eyes and share a knowing smile.

He wanted Derek to grin from ear to ear and hold them both close and coo compliments about their beautiful son into his ear. _Daniel would’ve done that…_ Stiles thought fleetingly… _he would’ve waited outside the delivery tent like a proper father…he would’ve let me name OUR children…and he would’ve held me in his arms…unashamedly in love with me and our son…he would’ve whispered sweet things…he would’ve told me he loved me…he would’ve loved me…_Stiles eyes welled up now for a completely different reason. His eyes welled up because that wasn’t his life, would never be his life. He would never have a husband to love and look after him. He would never have a spouse to raise his children with. He would never have love in his life again. All of that was taken from him, and he would never get it back. All he had now was a master and a body servant and if he behaved he might sometimes get to hold his pups or maybe if he was lucky look at them directly in the eyes.

Looking down on his child, his newborn boy, Stiles could see the future he reasoned they probably would have together: _he would never acknowledge me…I would be an embarrassment…a shameful accident of birth…born of a slave…he would never look at me full faced…he would never truly know me…never see me…_ In that moment Stiles could no longer bear to look at his son. He couldn’t bear to see what was to come or worse what might have been. Though his body ached to pull the child close to his breast and suckle him and never let him go, his mind was already trying to push him away. _Push him away before I connect with him any more than I already have…it’ll make it easier if I don’t love him so much now…it’ll make it easier…_ But Stiles already did love his son, all of his pups and he hadn’t even gotten a solid look at all of them.

Stiles composed himself and said, "Thank you Master, for letting me hold him. I think I’m…I think…I think my afterbirth is starting…" The midwife came over, took the baby from Stiles’ arms, and handed him off to one of her assistants who took the pup over to be with his siblings out of Stiles’ line of sight. _Out of my life…forever…_

Stiles softly sobbed at the start of his afterbirth. For the remainder he was largely silent, though he grimaced as he remembered the Wolf custom of the mother eating the firstborn’s placenta. He was unsure if Derek would make him perform that particular ritual until Derek told the midwife to have the placenta prepared for consumption.

Stiles then also recalled that in cases of multiple births it was tradition for the father to eat the lastborn’s placenta. Though Derek being Derek took the custom one step further as he ordered all the placentas to be prepared. _Perhaps he will eat them all and spare me the disgust…but more than likely not…knowing him he’ll probably make me eat all of them…cause he knows it goes against my Tribe’s customs…_ Among Stiles’ Tribe it was customary to bury the placenta under the ground of the parent’s dwelling. _Binding them to home…home…_ Stiles softly cried at the pang in his heart thinking of home, and his forcibly separated family.

*

After the afterbirth ritual in which Stiles ate all four placentas Stiles was laid down on the bed provided for new mothers. His pups were on one side of his field of vision and the birthing tethers on the other. Derek was with the midwife and the Occurrin examining the pups. _Wolves don’t practice infanticide much anymore except in extreme cases of deformity…_ but Stiles’ heart still lurched up into his throat at the notion that they might possibly even  consider hurting one of his pups. _They are perfect…I’m sure…_ Stiles ached again to hold them, all of them, but he suppressed his pain as best he might and turned over in the bed to face away from his children.

Stiles put his hands over his face and cried as softly as he could. He cried though he knew he would probably be punished for it later. He cried until Derek walked over to the bed and made the following pronouncement:

"They have passed the Occurrin’s inspection. In five days they will be presented to the members of my family and be officially accepted into our lineage, our Pack. From there they will be taken to the nursery and raised alongside my firstborn and heir." Derek took a momentary pause before continuing, "You will spend the next few weeks recovering in your room. Isaac and one of the midwife’s assistants will attend to you. I expect you to heal and heal quickly. If you heal well perhaps I will let you see the pups you have given me. If you heal quickly perhaps I will even let you suckle one of them. Would you like this, Genim?"

Stiles’ mind screamed at him to refuse, to say no, to not allow himself to even have the possibility of bonding with his children, but his heart spoke first, "Yes Master. Thank you Master…"

The next words caught in Stiles’ throat but he forced them out, he couldn’t afford to alienate his master and father of his children, "You are so…good…to me Master…"

Derek petted Stiles’ cheek with two of his fingers, "I know Genim…I know…some might say I’m far too good to you…but… but you have exceeded all my expectations…and I find you worthy of my pride…worthy to bear my mark…worthy to bear my pups…"

Collecting himself Derek removed his fingers and straightened up looking slightly ridiculous standing at attention naked as he was and though he was no longer covered in Stiles’ blood and shit. "And I expect you to continue to excel…you please me Genim…and as long as you continue to bear healthy pups… you will continue to please me."

Derek allowed himself one last brush of his fingers along Stiles’ cheek, then he straightened his shoulders again and said nearly dismissively, "Goodnight Genim. I won’t see you again until you are more recovered."

"Good night Master." Stiles said coldly fighting the urge to vomit, or scream and yell and rail against his fate. But he bit back his anger and the bile that threatened to come up. He held down his emotions and tried to strangle them, tried to go calm, or numb, or anything to not have to feel.

As timed passed and Stiles drifted closer and closer to sleep another thought crept into his mind. _This is going to be my life…he’s going to breed me as often as he can…get as many bastards off me as he can…to spread his Hale name... all over this Kingdom…I am going to spend my life giving birth to his children…and having them taken away from me…_ Stiles sobbed and wept and didn’t bother trying to hold himself together. He let himself fall apart in that bed that night, and each night until his master Derek came to call once again, only two weeks after Stiles gave birth...

*

Two weeks into Stiles’ recovery Derek paid his consort a visit. He didn’t try to have sex with Stiles, the healers had made it clear that to do so would risk Stiles’ ability to breed later on. Derek couldn’t have that so he simply re-gnashed the bite mark on the back of Stiles’ neck.

Another two weeks passed before Derek visited again. This time he came bearing one of the pups… _one of the boys…_

"I hear from Isaac how well you are healing Genim, I am very pleased."

Stiles sat up in his bed, where he had been forced to rest for the past four weeks. While the bed rest had been welcome now it had become a curse. _Hours and hours of nothing but sitting…days and days of nothing but sleeping and reading…It’s been so long Isaac won’t even stay in the room if I open my mouth…_

"Thank you Master."

"Since you are doing so well I thought you might like to hold one of our pups…this is Petro he’s a month old and already he is the runt of our litter. He’s stubborn and refuses to suckle with the others…the wet-nurse seems to think he would do better with you…"

Stiles held out his arms somewhat reluctantly. He hadn’t seen or heard his pups at all since the birth and had made a painful peace with the fact that he would never get to hold his pups. But he took the boy in his arms and brought him to his breast.

They waited only a moment and Petro took to breast with relish. Stiles grunted softly but refused to otherwise acknowledge what was happening. _The less I bond now the better…_ but Stiles couldn’t help taking peeks at his son who sucked gently but insistently. _Gods he is so beautiful…and he’s mine…_ Stiles almost teared up, but held back. _He’s not mine…he’s his…Gods he can be so cruel…_

"How does it feel Genim?"

Stiles couldn’t lie, Derek would know. "Good Master… saddening…I love him…"

"Genim…Aren’t you glad to get you hold your son? To suckle him?"

Stiles voice was unsteady, but he knew what his master wanted to hear. "Yes Master…" then it broke, "…you are so good to me Master…" A few stray tears fell that Stiles could not hold back.

"Genim don’t cry. I’ve decided that from now on you will suckle Petro. The wet nurse can handle the others."

Stiles simply nodded and looked down on his son who was still greedily suckling away. _Gods he is mine…this one is mine…_    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I was just holding on to this, but here is the second chapter. I think there might someday be more, but after this update i don't have anything written so don't count on more any time soon. Sorry... :(


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